Reflection (Hetalia)
by TeamFreeWillIdjits
Summary: (Human AU) Lukas Bondevik is sucked into his mirror one day where he discovers two faces he hasn't seen in a year. They soon enter a preposterous battle that may have them fighting for their lives! (Rated T for blood, gore, and also general sadness. Also sucky summary is sucky.)
1. Chapter 1

~REFLECTION~

~Hi guys! This is something I wrote a few weeks ago for my class that started out as a simple writing prompt but I then extended it to a ten-part story that I have mashed together for this book! (and added a few scenes to make it a little less basic) The characters I used are the Hetalia ones but used as humans and I do not own them in any way.

I should also warn you this will get a little bloody and disturbing. Not for the faint-hearted and/or people who get their feels murdered easily.

Enjoy!~

Lukas opened his eyes, staring at the blank white ceiling of his bedroom. Sighing and stretching, he got out of bed only to hear a strange sound coming from his bathroom.

Tap, tap.

Hearing this, he straightened up, hearing each limb pop into place and he stood up, ignoring the coldness that swept through him as he stepped barefoot on the cold tile floor.

What had made that noise? One would assume a tree tapping against the window in the wind but the only tree in Lukas's yard was the tiny one out front, far, far away from his bathroom window.

Lukas walked over to the bathroom and flipped on the light switch, peering at his reflection and catching a glimpse of his morning self- platinum blonde hair ruffled from the night's sleep, dull indigo eyes ever more dull and shadowed than before because of lack of sleep. He blinked a few times and he heard it again.

Tap, tap, tap.

It seemed to be coming from the mirror.

Lukas raised a finger curiously, and tapped the glass of the mirror. It took him a second to realize that while he himself was raising his hand to touch the glass, his reflection was not reflecting his movements as it should. Instead, it stood there, staring.

Lukas stared back, just now noticing the little details that had changed in a split second- The indigo eyes were now a lighter shade of blue and the hair a darker blonde, and there seemed to be some sort of burn mark on the right side of his face, and the navy blue pajamas he was wearing was a fiery red in his reflection.

"What the-"

Lukas leaned forward, squinting at his reflection and almost nose-to-nose with it. His reflection cocked it's head to the side curiously, eyes mocking him. Lukas did a few tests- He raised one arm, he stuck out his tongue, he jumped up and down, but his reflection did nothing.

He sat down and stared at his reflection curiously for a while, and nearly fell over when his reflection moved on it's own- His reflection raised his hand out and pressed it against an invisible wall that Lukas could not see. His expression changed to one of pleading, and Lukas got to his feet, feeling the need to help out his reflection.

He reached one hand out, hesitantly, and pressed his hand to the hand of his reflection.

A moment.

And then-

Fiery pain shot in violent spikes through his arm and spread it's way through his body, causing him to scream as his reflection seemed to push his way through the mirror slowly, it's body looking shattered and like broken glass, the cracks glowing as Lukas continued to scream.

Lukas looked at his hand, which seemed to be glued to his mirror as his 'reflection' (or should he even call it that anymore?) continued to push it's way through the mirror, a sickening sight of his skin being stretched taut over his features that looked broken up do to his broken-mirror effect.

Finally the figure pushed itself out of the mirror completely, falling to the floor and then standing up at once, the cracks in his body slowly resealing themselves with a dull glow.

His reflection smiled down at Lukas, who had fallen to the floor. His mirror had been shattered; the pieces were now littering the floor and a few shards had cut a few nicks into Lukas's face.

His reflection crouched down and placed an ice-cold hand on his cheek, smiling once again, the smile stretching the burn on his face disgustingly and the cracks glowing brighter.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," he sang. "For a long time I've been in that mirror, waiting my chance like Markell and Thurston. Oh, I'm free now. Good luck in hell."

"I-I-What?" Lukas sputtered as his 'reflection' stood up, the cracks in his body almost gone completely, almost faded away completely. His reflection stretched his limbs, as if he had been stuck in a tight space for far too long, and stepped out into Lukas's room, a look of interest on his face. He kicked the door behind him close, his skin now clear of any and all cracks that had previously been there.

Lukas suddenly felt pain rip through his whole body, slashing him like a burning hot sword and causing him to yelp, eyes wide.

The pain started on his hand; it burned like he had accidentally touched a pot or a pan while it was on the stove. He watched with horror as each individual nerve that connected his finger to his nervous system was split apart, the dead nerves falling to the ground in a disgusting pile along with the bone and flesh. Blood dripped down from where his three middle fingers were being split apart slowly and he screamed a deafening scream.

Where was his brother? His mother? His father? Where were they? Couldn't they hear him?

Sobs racked through him, making his body shudder violently as his wrists began to split apart. The flesh was rent asunder, starting on his thumb and began agonizingly working it's way down, the flesh peeling away and more nerves joining the disgusting, growing pile on the ground. Nerves connecting to the base of his thumb split apart and brittle shards of bone joined the the blood and flesh, pooling and mixing.

He heard a faint ringing in his ear as his wrist fell away onto the ground, blood pouring down the stump that was formerly his hand, the pile of dead nerve endings and shards of bone and strips of translucent flesh on the ground causing a disgusting feeling to rip through him and cause him to gag violently.

Moaning in terror, Lukas shrieked, hoping for somebody to hear him as the process repeated; Dead nerves fell to the floor and the flesh was ripped away violently, muscle and tendons were rent asunder and the joint tore, bones and ligaments being ripped apart. Lukas watched this all join the growing pile of sickening remains and his stomach churned violently, the previous night's dinner making a threatening return.

His bones splintered loudly and veins burst apart, more flesh being peeled away easily like a wet tissue; Blood vessels and nerves followed, and arteries and capillaries were riven.

Blood dripped down the ever-shrinking arm and Lukas screamed again in pain, a hot feeling burning the back of his throat. The pile of was too disgusting; He turned and retched, vomiting onto the ground as the feeling grew more gut-churning and made his breathing come out in sharp gasps, simple breaths just simply not enough any more.

His upper arm was soon gone and ripped out of his socket, joining the pile of remains. He didn't know what was happening to his body or who was doing it, but whoever or whatever it was, it hurt like he couldn't believe. The flesh was ripped away none too carefully and fell to the ground, blood flowing thickly as more veins are uprooted and more muscle is rent asunder. Gasping violently and his hand slipping in the pile of sick behind him, Lukas shuddered as the pain grew worse.

His shoulder joined the pile of bones and flesh and arteries and veins and blood and-

More bile spilled over his bottom lip and down his chin as the base of his neck ripped apart, the nerves and flesh seemingly to float away before falling to the floor.

It was now beginning on his other arm; The pain reverberating through his body in violent spikes that made his stomach drop and threaten to spill more, however there was no more to spill. The process on his left arm was speeding up while the process on his neck had stopped.

Lukas's throat constricted as he wondered why he wasn't dead yet. Surely he had to be dead by now...Surely he had to...How could somebody go through his much pain and still be alive?...It was impossible...

But apparently it wasn't.

The flesh of his forearm stretched taut and broke like a rubber band, and the bones broke with a loud snap, blood trailing out of the stump. The process was now starting on his left leg.

Lukas began screaming again as the pain deepened, the veins on his foot bulging before bursting and his nerves and skin particles being pulled apart slowly, bit by bit and the muscles fell off, the bones snapping with a loud crack and the blood flowing faster.

"WHY CAN'T I BE DEAD?!" He shrieked. He took deep breaths as the process on his arm reached his shoulder and it was ripped violently out of his socket, and it stopped as the base of his neck began to peel away.

His ankle popped and cracked before the joint fell away, muscle and tendon joining it. Lukas looked down at it, feeling on the verge of passing out from pain.

He wanted to.

He wanted it to stop.

He wanted it to stop now.

He wanted the pain to stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop, stop, stop.

But it didn't.

It continued.

The flesh on his shin was like cake frosting; When somebody stuck their finger in it and ran their finger across the surface to gather a good lump of frosting and left behind a deep streak- That was what it looked like and reminded Lukas of as he watched the flesh being torn away.

The muscles bulged and squeezed before sliding right off easily, as if they weren't attached to anything at all, and the bone was split apart, shards of the bone and marrow falling to the ground in a sickening heap.

"STOP!" Lukas shrieked again, sobbing as tears streamed down his face. His kneecap cracked and fell off, the thinner flesh there flaking away like a pile of dead skin, and blood welled on the stump. So much blood. Lukas was surprised he wasn't dead from blood loss.

The fabric from his clothes had been torn away along with his body and littered the ground like blue colored pieces of paper. Lukas had cuts on his bottom where he had landed on the glass and his back was soaked with the vomit from earlier, but that wasn't his main concern.

His main concern was the veins bulging in his right foot and the toes being ripped away like they didn't matter at all as the flesh was torn faster than anything else, in violent tatters and the bone being snapped off as if it simply didn't exist, muscle being strewn on the ground and joints rent asunder, blood in a pool and a pressure building up in his head.

He had stopped screaming a few seconds ago and his mind, now for some odd reason, accustomed to the pain, and he watched as his foot fell away. Well, watching wasn't the right word. He was looking at and he was seeing it happen, but his brain was not processing it.

On his left leg, his thigh was being split slowly apart, flesh being nicked off here and there and falling to the ground into the growing pile of sick. Lukas gagged as the process began on his neck again.

Muscles and tendons ripped away, falling to the ground with a sickening 'splash' as it landed in the sick, and his dead nerves were rent asunder as a dry feeling was placed in his throat.

Lukas closed his eyes as he felt a burning sensation on both sides of his face. The knee of his right leg was being torn away now, but he didn't even feel it. He felt his cheek bones splinter away and his vision went static and one eye burst from it's socket, the eyeball falling to the ground with the optical nerve trailing like the slimy end of a kite.

Lukas felt his jaw unhinge, muscle falling as his other eye joined the other one and more flesh fell to the ground.

Darkness.

Darkness.

Dark.

Dark.

Black.

Cold.

Black and cold.

Dark.

Pain.

No pain.

More pain.

Little pain.

Excruciating pain.

Feel no pain.

So much pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Dark.

Cold.

Warm.

Pain.

Black.

Black.

Black.

Black.

Dark.

Pain.

More pain.

So much pain.

Pain's gone.

Pain hurts more.

Pain.

Black.

Blackness hurts more.

Blackness blinds him.

Blackness sneaks up on him.

Blackness holds nasty surprises.

Blackness is what night time is and he despised the night time.

Black.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Black.

Dark.

Cold.

Pain in this cold, dark, black place that he was in,

but he actually wasn't.

Pain?

No pain.

Pain is gone.

Pain does not exist.

What is pain?

The pain.

It's vanished.

Wiped off Earth.

What is pain?

What is blackness?

What is anything?

What does this all mean?

Black?

Cold?

Pain?

Voices.

Voices in his head.

What were voices?

Voices were noise.

Noise that made words.

Sounds.

Speech.

What was pain?

Pain was indescribable.

Pain did not exist.

It never did.

No.

No pain.

No pain.

Just black.

But what was black?

Black is black.

So much black.

Black.

Black is all he sees.

What was black again?

Was it the chilly feeling creeping up on him?

No, that feeling was just associated with the blackness.

What was black?

What was the voice in his head?

What was a voice?

What was his head?

Head.

Head.

Eyes.

Mouth.

Nose.

All gone.

Doesn't exist.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Pain.

What was pain?

Blackness.

Familiar voice.

Light.

Wait, light?

Lukas opened his eyes to find himself staring at a stone ceiling, his body cold. He sat up, breathing heavily as he turned his left and right, feeling his arms and legs and face and almost crying out of relief.

Lukas buried his face into his hand, sobbing at what had just happened. Was it a dream? God, that was the worst dream he'd ever had.

So much he couldn't describe.

There had been a moment of transition, when he was unsure of what anything was. What anything meant. He knew the words but their definitions vanished then reappeared then vanished again.

Lukas gave a sob at being whole. At that whole thing not happening. It just happened in his head. Right?

He opened his eyes, wanting to wipe that whole experience from his mind. He was in an unfamiliar cold room, and somebody, he noticed, was chained to the wall, their pale, muscled figure slumped against it. Squinting, heart thumping, Lukas noticed the spiky blonde hair, the bright blue eyes that were now dulled slightly, and the thick eyebrows he had not seen in six months.

He gasped, heart hammering against his rib cage, wondering how it could be possible.

No.

How could this be? He disappeared without a trace. So how could he be here? Someone should have found him. Yet, without a doubt...

"M-Mathias?"

The figure lifted his head, eyes widening in recognition, blood dripping down his forehead from a wound he could not see.

"Hey, Luke."


	2. Chapter 2

"M-Matthias? Is that r-really you?"

"Yep. The one and only."

"But...But..." Lukas was still shaking from the horrible experience that may or may not have happened before. He finally cleared his throat and said,

"But you had disappeared!"

"I did, didn't I?" Matthias smiled a little sadly, then frowned once again as Lukas continued to stare at him in shock.

"Didn't know you cared, Luke."

"I-Of course I- I just- Anybody would-You see-"

Matthias laughed.

"Okay, I get it. Ya missed me."

Lukas cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"No, I just...Anybody would miss even YOU a little bit if you just disappeared off the planet, Dane," He said, referring to Matthias's home country Denmark.

There was a few moments of silence.

"How long was I gone?" Matthias asked him quietly when nothing else came from Lukas's mouth. Lukas cleared the lump that had formed there and said,

"Six. Six months.

He was still recovering from the shock of finding his best friend here after he had been missing all this time. Was...Whatever that was back there linked to Matthias's disappearance?

"Are you the only one here?" Lukas asked, getting to his feet a little wobbly.

"No," Matthias shook his head, "Tino is here as well, but I haven't seen him for a couple of hours..."

"He disappeared last year? You mean Tino Vanamonien, right?"

"Yep."

"So..." Lukas paused for a moment to think about it, to see if there was some sort of connection or pattern here, "It was Tino a year ago. Then you six months ago. And now me."

"I assume somebody came out of your mirror," Matthias said, shifting slightly so the cuffs chaining him to the wall weren't digging so roughly into his skin, clearly not having heard Lukas.

"Yes," Lukas confirmed, brushing the dirt off of his pants, casting a glance at the smooth stone walls and floor. A door in the far corner that he had not noticed before flung open and a smaller, shorter man about nineteen or twenty was thrown into the room by a hand attached to an arm attached to a figure that was shrouded in darkness.

Tino got to hid feet, wobbling as the door behind him slammed shut, his blonde hair flattened to his head and caked with dirt and dust.

"Was it Egil?" Matthias asked, disgust clear in his voice. Tino nodded once, holding a hand up to his ear, which was bleeding slightly, and feeling the wound, wincing.

"Who's Egil?" Lukas asked. Tino spun around to face him, violet eyes wide, just now noticing the slightly taller (Yet younger) teen was there. There was a moment of silence, then Tino bounded across the room and enveloped him in a hug.

"Lukas!" Tino sobbed, "Lukas, they got you too! And they're going to get Arthur and Emil and Alfred, too!"

"Emil?" Lukas asked, placing a hand on the slightly older man's shoulder and pushing him away gently. "Tino, why would they be after Emil? And who are 'they'?"

"I...I don't know why they're after him," Tino whispered, eyes wide, "But I heard them talking about it and Egil is getting a new mirror ready."

Emil was Lukas's little brother, however they didn't find out until a year ago, however Emil, the stubborn teen he is, refuses to call Lukas big bro as he desires.

"Tino," Lukas said, "Are we dead?"

Tino shook his head.

"No, we're alive," he said, rubbing at a few angry welts on his wrists, "We're just...Here."

"What's here? And who are 'they?'"

"Here is just here. I don't know where we are," Tino admitted, "And 'they' are the people here. The people who run this place. The people that came out of our mirrors."

Lukas opened his mouth to ask more but a voice said,

"I hate to ruin this cozy little reunion, but against the wall. Now."

Lukas obeyed, not glancing back to see it was. A moment passed, and then a slightly taller man, maybe about his mid twenties, stepped forward into his line of vision, chains in his hands. He had strawberry blonde hair and a dusting of freckles across his face with curious eyes- They were turquoise with pink swirls within them.

"Oliver," Tino said, eyes wide, "Lukas is Loki, isn't he?"

"Why, yes," Oliver answered in a slightly sing-songy voice, grabbing Lukas's arm roughly and snapping his wrists into the cuff. Matthias sweared, brow furrowing, and Tino gave a squeak.

"Why? Who's Loki?" Lukas questioned, glaring up at Oliver.

"Can't say," Oliver sang, and exited the room, slamming the heavy metal door behind him shut with an echoing bang.

"Who's Loki?" Lukas asked at once, turning his head to stare at Tino. "Who is he?"

"How do I explain this? Loki is one of the worst ones here," Tino sighed, sitting down on the floor and hugging his knees to his chest. Lukas just now noticed that Matthias and Tino both had scars and bruises dotting their bodies, like ugly stars on their pale skin.

The only light in the room was a high window with rusted bars, letting in only a cold, steely, wintry gray light. The room was freezing and Lukas could already feel himself shivering when he noticed something;

He was not dressed in his pajamas, as he had been when he was going through that horrible experience and taken into the mirror, but was wearing his everyday outfit; A white-and-blue vertically striped button-up shirt, a navy blue jacket halfway zipped, and navy blue pants, his black boots were however missing, so he was barefoot.

He also noticed Tino and Matthias were also barefoot, and he assumed they had also been in pajamas before they got here, if they were attacked the same way and time he was in the morning. Matthias was wearing a red button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black tie, red breeches and a brown belt, but he was also barefoot, nicks and blotches on his feet.

Tino looked to be the worse, the light lilac-colored T-shirt had holes and rips in and spots of blood, matching the light blue trousers that had dirt stains on the knees and back, and his arms and legs looked like they had been burned several times with a hot sword.

He was so lost in thought, thinking of how Tino and Matthias got here and what they had been though, and why they were here, that he did not notice Tino addressing him until he had said his name several times, loudly.

"I don't know how to explain this, but..." Tino took a deep breath as Lukas watched him shudder slightly in fear, "Loki is you."

**_~I wrote this all at once, so the chapters suck. ;-; SORRY~_**


	3. Chapter 3

~I know these are kind of short, but may I remind you I originally wrote this for my writing class, so naturally, not terribly long.~

"Me?" Lukas asked, arching an eyebrow, confused, "What do you mean, 'me'?"

"Did somebody appear in your mirror?" Matthias asked, "Someone who looked like you but wasn't really...You?"

"Yes," Lukas said slowly, his stomach churning unpleasantly with the reminder of what had happened in his bathroom.

"Well, that was Loki. And Oliver? Does he remind you of anybody? Anybody that you might be...Close friends with?" Tino asked, staring at Lukas. Lukas racked his brains, closing his eyes and sifting through memory until a familiar British accent said in the back of his mind, so clearly it was almost like he was there himself,

"Welcome to the Black Magic Club!"

The blonde hair, the green eyes, the unusually thick black eyebrows, popped into his mind, accompanied by the image of himself and his friend Vlad, a strawberry-blonde Romanian at Gauken Academy's 'Magic Club.'

"It's Arthur, isn't it?" Lukas asked quietly, opening his dull indigo eyes to stare at Tino and Matthias, "Oliver is Arthur, isn't he?"

"He is," Matthias nodded, shifting from his position on the floor, "And he has this other guy who we don't see much, is name is Allen, and he looks just like Alfred."

"Alfred F. Jones?"

"Yep."

Lukas knew him, but not a whole lot. He was an excellent trumpet player in Lukas's band class (where he played trombone) and also took orchestra with him- He was the cello while Lukas was the violin. They never spoke to each other that much but when they did the conversation was usually friendly.

"What does this mean?" Lukas frowned, trying to make sense of it all. Tino and Matthias exchanged glances like they themselves had asked each other this many times before.

"From what I've overheard- And that is to say, a lot- The one who looks like me is named Thurston and the one named Markell is Matthias," Tino said.

"Loki-That's his name, right?- Mention two people by the names of Thurston and Markell," Lukas said.

"Then those guys are us. Well, not really us...But you get the point."

"But you two disappeared. Nobody has seen any look alikes around," Lukas said, his brow furrowing.

"We think they're waiting for more to arrive," Matthias answered at once, "Though how many more, we don't know."

"There's Bernard, Egil, Oliver, Allen, Luciano," Tino counted off on his fingers, "who we know is Berwald, Emil, Arthur, Alfred, and Feliciano."

"But if they got me and are going to get Emil, wouldn't they get Feliciano's brother Lovino too?" Lukas asked. Matthias and Tino exchanged thoughtful looks.

"We haven't thought of that before," Matthias admitted. Lukas nodded and shifted into a slightly more uncomfortable position, the cuffs digging into his wrists roughly.

"Why don't they just kill us?" Lukas asked after a while of silence.

"I think if we die, they die too, but I'm not so sure," Matthias said, "Tino's been here longer, but he doesn't know everything."

"I'm their favorite," Tino said venomously. "I'm like their little doll; I get played with roughly and then thrown to the side only to be picked back up again and go through more torture."

Lukas shot Tino a sympathetic glance, not wanting to imagine what horrors the older man had been through in his year in this place.

"Who else is here?" Lukas asked them both.

"There's one girl, her name is Katsyusha, but we don't know who she is," Tino said automatically, "And then there's Karou..."

There was a moment of silence. Then-

"Who are they?"

Lukas didn't have to ask Matthias what he meant. He knew what he was trying to say.

"They're not human, are they?" Tino said quietly.

"No, no I don't think so," Lukas said. The conversation trailed off ominously, until Lukas noted,

"You two look like you have been tortured."

"It does, doesn't it?" Matthias said, giving a short, slightly harsh laugh, "If I ever get out of these chains, there's a few months of pain that I would kindly like to pay back. In a not so kind way."

"Shh!" Tino hissed, eyes wide, "They can hear you!"

"I don't care," Matthias shrugged, staring up at the two with shadowed eyes, "Those guys are planning something and it's far worse than what's going on here."

There was more silence. It seemed to drag on and on painfully, until a door suddenly banged open and a shadowed figure peeked in, glasses glinting.

"Newbie," A gruff voice said, "Stand up."

Lukas decided it was best to obey and stood up as best as he could with the chains tugging him down and causing him to stand at an awkward angle.

The figure stepped into the room, wearing sunglasses and a bomber jacket. He had auburn hair and dark eyes, and had a baseball bat in one hand. The bat was covered in bloody nails, and Lukas had a feeling he used if for more than a friendly game of baseball. The man was maybe about nineteen or twenty, and reminded him of somebody...

"Alfred?" Lukas asked, then remembered the name Tino and Matthias had used while mentioning the American's look alike, "I mean, Allen?"

Allen chuckled, unbuckling the chains and cuffs and yanking Lukas out of the room by his arm, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his upper arm as Lukas cast a glance back to the other two, Tino's eyes wide and Matthias's face turned away, as if not being able to bear the sight of his best friend being taken away to...Wherever he was being taken.

"Boss wants to see you," Allen told him, answering his unasked question as he continued to drag Lukas down the hall, stumbling over the rougher stone floors of the hallway that was lit with torches.

They reached a heavy-looking door with a padlock, and Allen inserted a key that had been hanging around his neck into the keyhole, turning it and hearing the door give a satisfying 'click.' Allen flashed him a cold look before pushing the door open.

Inside was an empty mahogany table, with what looked like a few cigarette burns on it's smooth surface and the chairs not exactly in the best condition. Lukas was forced into a chair just as another door on the opposite end of the room flung open and somebody else entered.

"Infine, ya bastardo. Ero sempre impaziente."

(Finally, ya bastard. I was getting impatient.)

The speaker had a rough Italian accent and seemed to be an almost exact replica of Feliciano Vargas, a kind student that Lukas was acquainted with, but with darker hair and purple eyes, a plumed hat placed on his head.

There was a moment of silence, in which dull, tired indigo eyes locked onto the murder purple before him, when the heavy door behind the Italian finally shut with an echoing BANG, snapping them out of their harsh staring contest.

"I am Luciano," The man said slowly, walking over, his rough Italian accent making his words harsher, "I assume you are a-Loki bastardo's counterpart, a-Logan?"

"Lukas," Allen corrected from behind him.

"Whatever."

The Italian shot Lukas another look, his eyes flickering with something that could only be described as a cold, contemplating look, as if he was judging Lukas for some sort of army or training program.

"Do you a-know why you are a-here, bastardo?"

"No," was Lukas's answer.

Luciano flashed Allen a look, like, 'Hm. Interesting.'

"Do you know-a the other two a-stupido bastardos in the cell with you-a?"

"Yes," Lukas said truthfully, deciding that now was not the time to lie, especially to somebody who was Italian and looked perfectly capable of using his blood to make his pasta sauce and a creepy American with a baseball bat that did not at all look friendly.

"Good."

Lukas raised an eyebrow but said nothing for a minute. After a while, he said,

"Why are we here?"

"Because a-you are, bastardo."

"But why? Why do you need Matthias, Tino, and I?"

"Because."

"Why can't you just let us-"

BANG

A knife was slammed onto the table, a rough centimeter from Lukas's hand, which was set on the table in his nervousness and anticipation. Startled, Lukas nearly toppled out of his chair, as Luciano glared down at him, breathing ragged and purple eyes flashing that could only be described as hungrily vicious.

"Listen up, bastardo," Luciano growled, "You're a-going to be here for a long, long a-time, so get used to it-a. Nobody will-a be saving you or let you go, understand-a? Hopefully you will a-Snap soon and our job-a will be a hell lot easier, but we a-don't know."

Lukas stared up at him, eyes wide and chest rising and falling rapidly, trying not to betray too much emotion in his face or eyes as Luciano stared into them, his unusually colored eyes searching his own. After a moment, Luciano straightened up, yanking the knife that he had seemingly procured from nowhere and waved a hand. Allen grabbed Lukas's upper arms and yanked him upwards out of his chair.

"My brother-Emil-What are you going to do with him?" Lukas asked suddenly, remembering Tino having mentioned his younger brother in a previous conversation as Allen dragged him to the door roughly. "He's next, isn't he? Don't hurt him! What are you going to do with him?!"

The glare emitting from Luciano was colder than the Arctic itself as he surveyed Lukas as he was dragged out the door. Lukas attempted to lunge at him and demand answers, dropping all cool he had but he was prevented from doing so by the inhuman strength of Allen.

"Did you hear me?!" Lukas shouted, but the heavy door was slammed in his face.


End file.
